


Vampires and Morning Doves

by sadclapz



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Dirty talk gone wrong, During Timeskip (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Felix Hugo Fraldarius is Bad at Feelings, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Friends With Benefits, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, and byleth has the patience of god, felix is like feelings what are those, i like to call this one, some spoilers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24740623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadclapz/pseuds/sadclapz
Summary: “I think you’re a fool, too. We are not ghosts of those delusions. We are alive, in flesh and blood.”-The classic trope of Felix being bad at feelings, but SEXY.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Kudos: 54





	Vampires and Morning Doves

**Author's Note:**

> hi I know it's been a while since I wrote anything. school knocked me out for a while but now I'm back to working on fics regularly. and they're going to be much longer than my usual ones and some have been difficult. so I randomly got inspired to write this quick lil thing cuz felix hugo fraldarius has me constantly simping. anyway I struggled in ending this but I hope you like it<3

Felix developed a routine during his student days at the monastery, all revolving around training until he dropped from exhaustion, with the occasional satisfaction to basic human needs like sleeping and eating. Including his classwork, which was often ignored or rushed to completion so there would be more time to perfect sword techniques. If anyone dared to distract him, he would surely cut them down. Except for one person who _always_ stood in his way with boring lectures and violet flowers and aromatic teas that made his stomach churn. He’d try to cut her down- only to fail, sweating, sword-hand shaking, weapon fallen to the ground while she stood victorious and untouched. Although eventually allowing her to pester him with spars at the training grounds and casual chatter in the dining hall, he kept her at a distance, unwilling to let his blade dull for more frivolous activities.

  
When everyone reunited at Garreg Mach during wartime, that routine was altered and the distance between them came to a close. Neither of them were sure how it all started; tension could no longer sate between clashing of swords. Not when they were perspiring under their armor and the night air chilled them to freeze, and she shed her robe to reveal battle-cratered skin that seared like flames when he touched it. Thus, every late night ended with him alone in the training grounds, until some unexplainable force tempted him to follow back into her personal quarters. 

  
And there she would be, pretending to be surprised by his attendance as if she wasn’t already disrobed and in the middle of lighting a candle. Felix came in with a single knock at her door, already kissing and leaving ghosts of fingerprints across her body, without muttering a single word. Not that Byleth pried at the matter. Waiting for him to swoon her with romantic promises was like expecting vampires to shift into morning doves. Instead, she relished in his staccato breathing and trembling sighs when her mouth met his jaw.

  
There was an aberration in the mood around them from other countless nights. The candlelight flickered brighter and the moon cascaded the room in a sulking glow, rather than the usual darkness disguising their physicality. Felix could see her face twist and soften when he pinned her to the bed, kneaded into her toned thighs, pulling her shorts off to join the hardwood. Intoxicated by the image before him, he wanted to indulge in every expression like a drunken fool. Hands spent extra time governing more moans from the body beneath him, warm and malleable as feminine clay.

  
Byleth took note of how different his behavior was from the norm, how slow his touch meandered and gentle his mouth nipped at her collarbone. He was usually so rough, eager to ignite their skin together and nourish the overwhelm of pent-up emotions. Rather than inquire, she brought his face to meet hers in a sweet kiss, opening her mouth to let his tongue circle around satin-coated lips. Now, she became hungry, pulling away slightly to let hot breath haunt the previous frame of their embrace. Her hand trailed past his belt to the front of his trousers, manipulating her touch into his moans. His eyes lidded halfway, sun-speared and chestnut as they looked upon hers.

  
Felix grabbed her wrist, as if they were back at the training grounds, halting the next swing of her weapon. Watching her fading grin puzzle, he lowered himself to face the fronts of her thighs. He grimaced in reaction. “What? You’ve got some kind of problem?”

  
The first words he ever spoke while in bed were crass. His vulgarity unfazed her, replying with simplicity. “I don’t have a problem, Felix. Just surprised. However, if you linger any longer, I’m going to develop one.”

  
Voice dripping with need, Byleth pleaded with raised hips as he hooked his fingers in the hem of her tights. If she could predict what he was about to do, then of course it would surprise. They were not an experimental pair, as most of their nights were spent with him inside her and nothing more. For Felix to drop to his knees, pry the embroidered obsidian clinging from her legs, and rest his cheek upon her inner thigh- she briefly wondered if she was dreaming, still unaware in her five-year slumber. She instinctively (and quite impatiently for her nature) tugged at his hair, feeling the warmth of his exhale directly to her core. 

  
“Already so desperate?” he asked, trailing a digit to her entrance. “Pathetic.”

  
“Is it truly pathetic to want you as bad as you want me?” she retorted, marveling smugly above him.

  
Felix scoffed, his index and middle fingers now dawdling in sluggish, agonizing circles. “Who said I wanted you in such a way?”

  
She breathed the harsh air around her moan, dust fluttering in the sepia candlelight. “You were the one who followed me to my room, Felix. You haven’t turned me down once.”

  
_Maybe we’re both just as pathetic_ , he thought. All banter ceased once his lips ran over the curved skin of her exposure, tongue working at every natural curve and contortion. He steadied his grip under her thighs, pressing his mouth closer with more crave. She could tell he had no previous experience in this matter, sensing the sloppiness and hesitation. He silently feared it would not be enough to compensate (he shook away the thought; since when did he care?), but the obscene noises that trailed off her lips offered self-confidence and a tighter space in his trousers. He watched her squirm, neck craned to the headboard and free hand over her breast. Pulling the cobalt layers in her knuckles, she angled his mouth higher- the tone of her cries heightened, muscles throbbing. As he pressed his tongue further a final time, her body paused, tilting above the bed before convulsing. Time was ample spent on tasting the aftermath, sweeping across bundles of sensitive nerves as she calmed.

  
Felix licked her remnants off his lips, watching her collect lost breath, skin bepearled in sweat and moonlight. He hoisted himself up to kiss her; it is tender, almost soothing. Byleth pulled away, hand under his chin, delicately skating a finger across his lips. They’re rosey-hued, hazy in her recovering lucidity. She met his eyes once more.

  
Byleth knew she was in love.

  
Felix didn’t even know how to spell love.

  
Yet, he took a chance, sounding it out with six-year long syllables. He found the letters hidden in the folds of their time together. Between the tea, the spars, the blood spilling on the battlefield. Something enigmatic lingered in the air when they were side by side. He found not one word, but three. Three words to settle these feelings. He spoke them with confidence.

  
“You’re a fool.”

  
They were not the best choice of words, but Felix was more honed in battle than expression. She stared, raising an eyebrow. “How come?”

  
“I saw you die before my very eyes five years ago. And you resurrect only to waste your life for mine?” he gritted through his teeth.

  
Byleth propped herself up by her elbows, leaving half her face shaded in darkness from the window’s shadow. “What are you talking about?”

  
“Why were you so quick to jump in front of me during the last battle? I could have- you could have died,” he said his last words with a sincerity she had to squint to detect.

  
“In war, you protect your allies, Felix. That’s the most logical answer I can give you,” she sighed, but with less pleasure and more aggravation than the ones she emitted under him. “But neither of us could have died from such a weak swing. I know you knew that, too.”

  
Her words were true. Remembering how the blade bounced off her shield like a wooden toy, he blushed deeply. She continued her speech. “If you want the truth, I forget that you’re capable of protecting yourself at times. I see someone who wishes to harm you and it becomes reflexive.”

  
It’s almost too much to bear. The embarrassment, like the scolding him and Sylvain received during their school days when they ignored their chores for sparring and skirt-chasing. How he grew limp in his groin from the conversation. How her breasts moved with her breathing, how she was still so shamelessly exposed before him, how ashamed he felt to get hard again while trying to listen to her. “I don’t understand. Why would you be so concerned with my life over your own?”

  
“I’ve asked myself the same when it’s my life on the line and you’re there to save me. We share that feeling. You may not understand why, but I certainly do.”

  
He wondered what his fate would entangle to if he went back to his own dorm instead, sleeping instead of making love. If he declined her flowers, her dining invitations. If she fell in the stead of death, to protect his life to leave him with only memories in his palm- for _him_. So that he may take the next breath. Live as if he left a mark on the world more than she did, live as if she wasn’t a blossoming hero, the next archbishop, gifted with Sothis’ divine power; and him a mere swordsman.

  
“I think you’re a fool, too,” she continued, cupping his cheek. “We are not ghosts of those delusions. We are alive, in flesh and blood.”

  
Felix gave no rebuttal, letting his glare fall left, away from her kindness. Even through complications, she saw his attempt. Even if he could not form passionate syllables, she heard them, muffled like the flutter of dove wings.

  
_Something is certainly peculiar about him tonight_ , she thought, questioning why he picked this of all times to be discussing an absent future. Lying back onto the bed, Byleth dragged his face closer to hers, spreading her legs as their groins met. She whispered, the hairs on the back of his neck upright. “Now isn’t the time for more words. I need you, Felix. Take me while we’re in present.”

  
Refusal was impossible when a moaning sigh elated her last words as he quickly unbuttoned and discarded his pants. The shirt followed suit and her hands travelled down the brawn of his torso, tracing over each scar, recalling every story laced into the white tinges. Once his tip lined her entrance, abysmal, cerulean irises darted to his. His brow furrowed, reveling in the euphoria of her folds against him, lightly circling his hips. She whined, her voice near nymphean and pure, bucking in compensation. The way he teased, the depravity in her body’s response, it _ate her alive_ like a demonic beast. 

  
They kissed the moment he entered her, pleasure hermetic and wet. Every part of Byleth formed in harmony with his touch. Felix fit in perfect delectation, matching with jutting hips, even as the rhythm in his began to mend in anarchy. She gasped in broken linguistics of his name, melting and babbling beneath his lips. They had done this countless times, over moons and sunrises, yet all felt as if it were their first night.  
The familiar burning below his abdomen ignited to a hot white, blurring his senses. He grabbed her at the hilt, angling himself deeper while nails engraved memoirs down his back. He cried out, lilting his own ribald song, craving for release. Unhinging herself from his mouth, she stiffened with a hesitant sob. Frame arched and flushed, thoughts only of silvery stardust, she turned to ripples of lightning for the second time that night.

  
Byleth watched him fray above her. A final thrust, his release in ivory shockwaves. He was beautiful, lips parted and bangs doused in perspiration stuck to his forehead. She took his hands into hers- pale, calloused, and trembling. It’s the most intimate touch they’ve shared.

  
Her heart fluttered as a butterfly, caged within her bones.

  
The hand on his squeezes tighter. He longed to speak what she’s been waiting on.

  
He was terrified.

  
Yet, comforted all the same.

  
That’s what rattled Felix as he tossed in her sheets afterwards, desire for slumber mocking him. He never stayed for the night, as he often robed and left the scene in a timely manner. Something about that night tempted him to stay. Words weren’t exchanged, only inhales to catch breaths and exhales to blow out the candle. With her body only centimeters away, skin still sultry, humming of sleep and dreams. Or, so he thought, as she turned to his back.

  
“Can’t sleep?” Byleth whispered.

  
He rolled over to face her, orbs of distant oceans piercing through the dark. He ran fingers through her scalp, minty tresses bundling in his palm. She held him again, freckling kisses on his knuckles.

  
Time was all they could give each other. Not until war was over, when enemies all perished and scent of miasma seldom clouded the region.

  
“I am a fool,” he said, turning again to face the wall.

  
They could not see each other smiling. She turned the same, facing away from him.

  
“So am I.”


End file.
